Gravel riding is the zen of cycling.  Mountain biking gives you that hyper-alert, most awake you’ve been in your life, double espresso chased with a Mountain Dew feeling.  And road, while it can be meditative if you find a quiet stretch of pavement, generally ends up being done in traffic, which means staying constantly alert to the large metal boxes hurtling past you.  

But gravel riding, alone on a quiet country road, hearing nothing but the sound of your own breathing and the gravel under your tires is highly meditative.  Flowing through nature at a speed that allows you to actually see nature, enjoying the mindfulness of spinning smooth circles with pedals.  Good for the soul.

We have been enjoying some spectacular fall weather here in the Arkansas River Valley and while the high-altitude trails are already snowed in, I have been doing a lot mountain biking on the in-town trails.  But I was craving something different, something slower and longer, what I would’ve called ‘base miles’ back when I worried about things like that.  I hadn’t been up Marshall Pass in a few months and had never done it solely as a gravel ride so I figured it was time to go exploring.  

Starting from the house it’s a five-mile spin west to Poncha Springs and then another five miles halfway up Poncha Pass to Chaffee County Road 200 where the gravel starts.  It was sunny and 50 degrees when my tires left pavement and I started the gradual climb up the railroad grade of Marshall pass.

By this time of the year the aspens have lost their leaves and the wildflowers are long gone, leaving the green pines to contrast against brown ground cover and the white dusting of snow on the surrounding peaks.  Aside from a couple of groups of hunters I passed on the way up I had the entire road to myself.

Only one car at the normally crowded O’Haver Lake.

After about 10 miles of steady climbing, I began to encounter patches of snow on the road.

The patches got bigger the higher I climbed.

Until the road was completely snow packed and I had effectively ridden into winter.

Fortunately, the road was well-tracked and I could ride on hard-packed snow.

Although I had been riding in sun most of the day, as I approached the top I could see that was all about to change.

Top of the pass and the requisite summit sign with bike.

Heading back down to sunshine. Unfortunately, I had failed to account for a couple of things.  Namely, that while climbing on packed snow on standard mountain bike tires at less than 10 mph is enjoyable, descending on the same surface at 20 – 25 mph is terrifying.  The packed snow feels more like an ice rink.  It was all I could do just to stay upright with the tires pointing more or less down the hill.  I also didn’t think about the mud associated with those patchy transition areas between snow and gravel.  Once past the snow I was going to be looking at at least a mile of riding through a mist of brown mud spray from my tires.  Oh boy.

Less than a half mile from the top of the pass, while I was riding with one foot unclipped, outriggering with my left leg trying to keep the bike from going sideways, I looked up to see the highlight of the day: a very large, very dark bull moose standing in the ditch right next to the road.  I slid to a clumsy stop and fumbled with my layers to get to my phone while the moose casually sauntered off into the trees.  Dammit!  I looked around only to see a second bull moose, equally large, slightly behind me crossing the road to follow his buddy.  I managed to get a picture of his backside just as he disappeared into the trees.

Ok, this is not acceptable.  Aside from several we had spotted once along the highway from a van window going to the airport in Utah, I had never seen a moose in the wild.  I could not not get a picture.  I decided to wait them out.  Remembering that moose can get surly I stayed on the road straddling my bike making sure that it was in a gear that would make for the fastest possible get away, in event of a charge.   In reality, on the slippery road I probably didn’t have a chance but that wasn’t going to stop me from getting a picture.  I waited.

And after a few minutes I was rewarded.  The first moose slowly came out of the trees and stood there looking at me from about thirty yards away.  Although he was massive, his antlers didn’t look as developed as some I’d seen in pictures so I’m guessing he was young.  We stood there looking at each other for several minutes.   

His buddy never came out of the trees and after a while I decided I might be pushing my luck and decided to move on.

I managed to make it the rest of the way down the pass without incident and got back to the house after five hours of riding, covered in mud but happy with my ride and thrilled with my first ever moose sighting in the wild.